


Stolen Dance

by chocolatehoarder, SkimbleShanks



Category: Carna - Fandom
Genre: Italian Mafia, M/M, Russian Mafia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:06:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29311551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocolatehoarder/pseuds/chocolatehoarder, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkimbleShanks/pseuds/SkimbleShanks
Relationships: Arroz/Lucas, Lucas/Rye
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	Stolen Dance

It was a nice afternoon, the last rays of sunshine were coming through the scantily covered windows in the fancy parlor, heavy with cigarette smoke. A pair of fairly good looking men stood out from the general crowd. One sat at the countertop that housed other drunkards; not a rare occurrence in the “Hot Bird”- he was a blond with pale skin and a disturbing absence of brows. The second figure was towering over the first one; a much better built guy, somewhere in his early twenties. Jet black hair, light brown eyes- if you looked close enough one could even say they’re golden. Yet unlike the others who were just settling in for another round of drinks before stumbling home, these two were on their way to leave.

Arroz checked his Rolex. The golden hands indicated it was nearing nine in the evening. “Arrow, it’s about to be time. Get your stuff and let’s go. There’s still a forty minute drive ahead of us.”

The blond looked up from his drink in front of him, disdain visible in his eyes. ”Az- I mean, boss, I still don’t get why we need this- do you really think Rye’s going to bother bartering for some glitterati?.”

Arroz scoffed. “He takes something from me, I take something from him. It’s as simple as that, Arrow. Now get your swigger ass up.” Dimming his cigar in a tray placed in front of Arrow, he barely held himself back from burning off the latter’s exposed forearm. 

The two, one more earnestly than the other, left the establishment: Arroz threw a quarter to the bartender on his way out, indicating that he’d be back later.

  
  
  


### \---

It was dusk, and warm in what looks like a bedroom; the lights were dim, but silhouettes of clothes strewn haphazardly over furniture could be made out. There was a figure sitting at the writing desk, a cigarette balancing on his lips.

The creak of the door behind him snapped his wandering mind back into reality. He turned around, the sliver of light from the doorway illuminating half of his face, accentuating his gentle features. He’s fair, blond-haired; his blue eyes look almost transparent in the lamplight. His mouth twitched in annoyance, automatically making his nose scrunch up.

“How many times do I have to tell you fuckers to knock?“ He squints angrily as his eyes adjust. “I can’t believe you-”

His words died in his throat. He was expecting a maid, maybe even his mother to come barging in unannounced. A tall man in a freshly tailored suit with striped bottoms and a scar over his left eye, stretching over his nose and going all the way to his right cheek? Not on the list.

The stranger was indeed tall: his upper body anchored itself by the shoulder leaning on the frame, and his dark hair was slicked back neatly. The telltale bump of a gun hid under his suit jacket, and he looked unamused at Lucas’ choice of words. 

“You’re not the maid.”

The man got off of the door frame, shutting it behind him softly. Lucas tensed.

Arroz spoke.“Good observation.” There’s a smirk. “But if you wanted me to take the role of one for the night, I’d be happy to oblige.”

For a second, Lucas’ expression stayed shocked. Then, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

Anger apparent in his voice, he recomposed himself. “Who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my house.” He stated stiffly.

The man in the doorway chuckled, taking in a drag from his cigar that was resting in between his lips. “Aw, I’m surprised you don’t recognise me! Rye hasn’t mentioned me even once?” He looked too proud. “Though I can see where he’s coming from, I wouldn’t want anyone else to know such a specimen like yours truly exists.” 

He extended his hand in a handshake. Lucas looked at it in flagrant distrust. “Arroz Adra, boss of the Red Dragons, pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

There’s a pause as both men looked each other over; Arroz with an aura of self proclaimed confidence, Lucas in thinly veiled apprehension. While it seemed that the stranger had no intent of killing him yet, he knew that the Red Dragons weren’t exactly chummy with Rye, either, let alone the mafia boss himself- and showing up at his doorstep like that always spelled trouble. 

Firmly, Lucas accepted the handshake. Arroz’s hands were calloused, most likely from the hands-on work that the job entailed. It wasn’t a new sensation to Lucas, but an unwelcome one nonetheless.

“I’ve heard a word or two about you. Can’t say it was particularly good shit, though.”

The man in red scoffed, running the hand that wasn’t resting casually on his hip over the top of the drawer next to him, eyes scanning over the small trinkets scattered around; empty boxes of cigarettes, empty glasses, a small abdullah lighter. “Don’t mind it- the geezer’s jealous.”

Lucas snipped right back. “Oh? Can’t see what he’d be jealous about, unfortunately.” 

Arroz let out a ‘tsk’, then seemed to remember something. His gaze came back into focus; he got distracted from the matter at hand.

“Look, as much as I’d love to keep this lovely conversation going, I actually didn’t sneak in here to dilly dally with a fine cookie such as you.” He takes out his gun, previously poorly hidden away, the metal cylindric-looking object weirdly in tune with the general mood of the place, gesturing to the blond with it. “I just need to take safety precautions is all. No hard feelings, alright, doll?” 

### \---

Arroz and Lucas are sitting in a car. The air is tense; Arrow, with his startling lack of eyebrows, looks through the rearview mirror at the disgruntled guest. The hustle of the city nightlife buzzes on outside.

The driver looks back once more at the man sitting in the backseat. The space where his brows should’ve been creases, and he looks to the passenger seat, where Arroz is sat. To his credit, he doesn’t look very comfortable either. 

Arrow breaks the silence. “So … I’m guessing the plan went well?”

“So far, yeah,” Arroz answers, shifting in his seat uncomfortably- being taller than average had its shortcomings. Lighting up a Gurkha Royale, he continues. “It’s almost like it was too easy Arrow- I waltzed in like I owned the place. Which I wouldn’t mind, but it was unsettling nonetheless.” 

Arrow replies offhandedly, focused on the road. “Well let’s try not to look a gift horse in the mouth for a second. At least I don’t have to make a quick getaway.” He lowers his voice. “I really wasn’t in the mood.”

While the two men talk amongst themselves in the front, Lucas stares out the window, lights blurring together as he listened in to the conversation. The darker haired male, distraught by the silence from the back seat turns to the contrasting light haired one. 

“You’re not going to question any of this? Not why we’re _technically_ kidnapping you, not why we’re driving to a faraway part of the city? None of it?”   
  


He lets out a mocking chuckle, taking another long drag from his cigar. Lucas grumbles something unintelligibly. “Well first of all, thank you so much for telling me that this is a kidnapping.” The sarcasm in his voice is almost palpable. “Second- it’s been so fucking long since I’ve been able to go outside, I really couldn’t care less if you’re holding me for ransom.”

Lucas scoffs, but it’s forced. Even in the small backseat of the car, he feels a weight come off his chest, the blinding lights of the world outside looking closer than ever before, grounding him in the reality that he was indeed in a rival mafia’s car, being driven to an unknown location. And yet, that’s more comforting than anything from his room back in the Adomaitis residence.

Speaking of which-

“One question though: where the fuck are we going?” 

“Ah, to be completely honest a place not much different from where you were before. The interior does look much better, I’ll tell you that much- hand picked all of it myself.” He turns his head back to face Lucas again, cigar dangling from his lips. “Don’t worry, Rye doesn’t know where it is.”

“Oh, thank god,” remarks Lucas, slightly less sarcastically.

Arroz turns his head back to Arrow again. “Would it bother you too much to make a few stops on the way?”

  
“Even if it did, you’d still make me do it.”

“That you are correct about, chrome dome.” He shoots a cocky grin towards his driver, triumphant in his dig at him.

Arrow sighs, exasperated. “For the last time-”   
  


“Zip it.” He turns back to Lucas, hands criss-crossing over the headrest while he looks now directly at the much shorter guy, continuing his earlier conversation. “You want anything from Wannamaker’s? You’re going to be staying for a while, going out to places and such- pick out some stuff to get decked out in or whatnot.”

Lucas ponders over it for a moment. While he wasn’t one to care much about clothing or whatnot, spending other people’s money was always entertaining.

He finally responds. “I mean, when in Rome right?” 

The mafia boss shakes his head, confused. “We’re … in New York?”

  
  


### \---


End file.
